


The Seas Between Worlds

by thatzodiacsky



Category: Mahou Shoujo Madoka Magika | Puella Magi Madoka Magica, Princess Tutu, Sailor Moon - All Media Types, Shoujo Kakumei Utena | Revolutionary Girl Utena
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-08
Updated: 2013-10-08
Packaged: 2017-12-28 19:28:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/995640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatzodiacsky/pseuds/thatzodiacsky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As the duck dreams, she dances with strangers.  A fairy tale for those past happy endings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Seas Between Worlds

It is a little known fact that all ducks dream. If it weren’t true before, it is now, because it has already become part of this story. 

In addition, it only stands to reason that if one were to cradle a fragment of magic close to one’s heart for days on end, that one’s dreams would be strange for years afterward. And so it was that the tiny body of the duckling slept between the reeds, and a thin figure of a girl in a white dress stepped out from it, stretching her arms as though she’d been sitting still for a very long time. She rose to stand on her tiptoes, the position familiar as breathing is to most people. It was not her natural body, but it would do to carry her soul while her feathery self rested.

The ballerina tiptoed across the water, pausing to take in her surroundings. She was not in the pond that the duck called home. Rather, her slippers rested on the dark surface of a seemingly shoreless lake that stretched from horizon to horizon like a sheet of black glass. Ripples emanated from the point where she stood, disappearing from sight to become waves that would wreak havoc or create miracles in other realities.

For she had somehow found her way to the Seas Between Worlds, where all stories sleep when they have run their course, or haven’t quite begun yet. She wondered which it was for her, a duck who had been a girl and then a duck again, returning her borrowed body to rescue those she loved. As she thought, she began to dance. It had long helped clear her mind.

As she spun, a slip of dark red appeared beneath her toes, and then another. The ballerina slowed to a stop, bending down gracefully to see what it could be. They were rose petals, floating on the surface of the water and carried to her by some unknowable current. Curious, the ballerina followed where they’d come from. As she went on, leaping lightly across the surface, the petals grew thicker, until if she didn’t already know she was dancing across water, she would never have guessed. 

Ruins rose from the soft carpet of red, weathered statues lifting their arms as though they were crying out for help. The ballerina avoided them unconsciously.

Further on, there were steps that led to nothing but a rough box like a coffin. On the stairs lay a girl in a red dress. She had dark skin and hair, and something about the shattered shape of her shoulders reminded the ballerina of dark feathers and eyes red as roses. She shook as though crying, but when the ballerina took her first step onto the stone, she looked up, and her face was clear. There were thick welts down her arms and legs, and the ballerina didn’t want to think about how many weapons must have caused scars like those.

“Are you here to save me?” The young girl asked, but there was no hope in her voice. The ballerina paused.

She didn’t think she could save her, this girl on the stairway. She had no power in this world, since it was not hers. “No. I don’t think I am.”  
The girl’s head sagged, and her purple curls hid her face. She lay back down on the steps and didn’t move for what seemed like hours.

“Are you a princess?” The ballerina came from a simpler world, and this was the most logical thing to ask. But the girl shook her head, slow and tired.

“I am a monster,” she told her, bitter. The blame fell in many places.

The ballerina was unsure. She had seen monsters, and she had seen princesses, and this girl seemed to be something more. But she let it be.

“Will you dance with me?”

At first, the girl didn’t want to. She was too sad, too exhausted. But the ballerina coaxed her to her feet, and they danced. The girl knew nothing of ballet, and her dance was a whirling, spinning thing, arms held high and her steps sharp like knives. There was life in her sea-colored eyes as she danced.

When they stopped, her eyes went dull again, and she sat down. The Ballerina hesitated. She could feel her body growing warm as the sun rose in her world, and she should go. But the girl raised her eyes to look at her. 

“Will you come again? I have been here for a very long time.”

And so the ballerina promised, and then danced away, crossing the surface of the water as easily as one might cross a room, until she reached the sunshine yellow bundle of feathers and stepped back inside her body.

...

She kept her promise, returning night after night to dance with the girl. But one night when she arrived at the Seas Between Worlds, the rose petals were gone. She danced and danced, but they didn’t appear, and finally she stopped, looking up at the sky.

The moon above her was full and shining, and it was several minutes before the ballerina realized she’d never seen the moon here before. It hung low in the sky, large and bright, and its reflection shimmered and danced on the water before her. Curious, the ballerina followed it, and for awhile it stayed just out of reach, growing larger and larger. Finally, the tip of her toes touched it, and it stopped shimmering, seeming to become solid as she stood upon it. The scenery unfolded around her like a pop-up book opening. A ruined castle creaked into being, and the world became craters and dust.

In an archway lay a girl, still as though she was sleeping. But when the ballerina stepped closer, moon-dust puffs rising around her, the girl looked up, and her face was wet with tears. She wore a white dress and her hair was up in two golden buns. She was taller than the ballerina, but nonetheless gave off the impression of being very young.

“Are you dead as well?” she asked, her eyes going round.

This frightened the ballerina, who did not think she was dead. After making sure, she smiled at the girl. “No, I’m not. Are you?” 

The girl tucked her chin to her chest, her pigtails falling forward over her shoulders. “It’s my fault…” she said, her voice soft. “my family and my guards are all dead, and it’s my fault for being so foolish.”

The ballerina did not think that was true, but she could neither see nor change the past, so she stood there for a very long time. Finally, she asked.

“Will you dance with me?”

At first, the girl didn’t want to. She was too clumsy, she said, too silly. But the ballerina coaxed her to her feet, and they danced. The girl knew nothing of ballet, and her dance was slow, a ballroom waltz across the dusty courtyard. She danced like she was used to being watched, like she was trying to give the illusion of being guided. But the ballerina found it was easiest to let her choose the course regardless. At the end, she lowered her arms. 

Morning was nearing again, and she hesitated. The girl had crumpled to lean against a pillar again, her eyes blank. But as the ballerina paused, she looked up slowly.

“Will you come again? I don’t know how long I’ll be here.”

And so the ballerina promised, and then danced away, crossing the surface of the water as easily as one might cross a room, until she reached the sunshine yellow bundle of feathers and stepped back inside her body.

...

She kept her promise, returning night after night to dance with the girl. But one night when she arrived at the Seas Between Worlds, instead of the moon, she saw stars. They covered the sky and were reflected in the dark water so clearly that she could not see where the horizon lay. Not knowing what to do, she danced off across the glittering surface.

Off in the distance, she became aware of a white shape, twisting gently like a flower in the wind. She grew closer, and it was a girl in a white dress, her long pink hair spread around her like a veil. She looked as though she was praying, her hands clasped together, but as the ballerina grew nearer, the girl opened her eyes, and she realized with a start that she wasn’t a girl at all but a goddess.

“You found your way on your own?” the goddess asked, her voice gentle. The ballerina felt a kinship with her. She knew that the identity she’d been handed from a storybook before was similar to the one this strange person bore. She nodded. 

“Are you here alone?” It did not seem possible that the goddess could be alone. The ballerina felt as though she stood in a crowd, but there was no one else around.

“Not at all,” the goddess replied, but she didn’t elaborate, shutting her eyes and bowing her head again. She hovered for several long moments, and the ballerina admired the stars. Finally, she held out her hand to the pink-haired being.

“Will you dance with me?”

At first, the goddess kept her distance. She was dangerous, a force of nature. But the ballerina coaxed her closer, and they danced. The goddess knew nothing of ballet, and her dance was barely movement at all. She held the ballerina’s hands and lifted her to be surrounded by the stars, which wove around them like lace made from light. They danced for what seemed like hours, but there was no way of knowing. 

Finally, the ballerina felt the water stir around her in her own world. She gently released the other’s hands and drifted down to the starry surface. 

The goddess smiled at her. “Will you come again? I have a long time to wait for my friends.” 

And so the ballerina promised, and then danced away, crossing the surface of the water as easily as one might cross a room, until she reached the sunshine yellow bundle of feathers and stepped back inside her body.

...

She kept her promise, returning night after night to dance with the girl. But one night when she arrived at the Seas Between Worlds and began to dance, a familiar flicker of red appeared beneath her feet. She hardly believed it, but she followed the rose petals, darting across the dark surface until familiar shapes of ruins appeared. They seemed no more and no less worn away then they had been the last time she’d been here.

But on the stairs was a stranger, someone she’d never seen before. The new girl wore a dark coat and had long hair as pink as the goddess’s, and she held a sword across her knees, which she was cleaning with her sleeve. Something about the strong line of her shoulders reminded the ballerina of gentle hands and hair that was white like feathers. She seemed stern and serious, but when the ballerina stepped onto the bottom step, she looked up with a smile.

“Hello! Do I know you?”

The ballerina had never seen her in her life, so she shook her head. “No, I don’t think so. What happened to the girl who was here before?”

The new girl looked up into the dark sky. “I don’t remember anyone else ever being here. But if she was here before, and now she’s gone, then she must have escaped. That’s very brave of her, don’t you think?”

The ballerina had never thought of that place as a prison before. But she could come and go as she pleased, and it wasn’t the same for the rest. She realized she’d been narrow-minded. The new girl had gone back to polishing the sword with her cuff, and the weapon was familiar to her.

“Are you a prince?” The ballerina came from a simpler world, and this was the most logical thing to ask. But the girl shook her head, and looked surprised at the question.

“I am a nobody,” she told her, nonchalant. She could not remember anything else..

The ballerina was unsure. She had seen nobodies, and she had seen princes, and this girl seemed to be something more. But she let it be.

“Will you dance with me?”

At first, the girl didn’t want to. She was busy, and she didn’t know how. But the ballerina coaxed her to her feet, and they danced. The girl knew nothing of ballet, and though she said she didn’t remember any steps, her feet remembered for her. She swept the ballerina around in a circle, her guidance firm and her eyes confident. Her hand found the small of the ballerina’s back, and it seemed like she was used to dancing after all.

Eventually, the girl stopped, and she seemed more at ease than before.

“Thank you,” she said, “I am waiting for someone, I think, but you have made it easier. I have to repay you somehow.”

The ballerina protested, but the girl cut a rose from one of the bushes with her sword and pressed it into her hands. She could do nothing but leave with the flower, dancing across the water until she returned to her body. It was early in the night yet, but she tried to step back in anyway, and found with a shock she could not. For several minutes she tried, only then re-remembering the rose in her hands. 

It seemed she could not take it with her. But it would be a shame to let a gift drift away into the water, so she turned a perfect twirl and danced again. Luck was with her that night, for undetectable clouds drifted away, exposing the big silver moon, and the ballerina danced furiously in that direction, reaching the destroyed kingdom in no time. 

She was relieved to see her golden-haired friend sitting in the archway, and the girl looked up as the moved closer. 

“You came back!” she said, her face shining. 

“I don’t have time to dance today,” the ballerina said sadly, but she held out the rose to the girl, whose blue eyes filled mysteriously with tears. “Would you do me a favor, and take this flower? It was a gift.”

The girl in the white dress took the rose carefully, cradling it between her hands like it was the most precious thing in the world. “You know,” she said, her voice soft, “until now I was so afraid of living again. How would I find my friends? How would I find him?” She looked up at the ballerina. “Thank you. I believe I can do it now.”

The ballerina knew nothing of the girl’s life here on the moon, or of the life she would live in the future, but she smiled and nodded. “I’m glad.”

Before she left, though, the girl caught her wrist. “I have to repay you somehow.” She disappeared into one of the abandoned buildings and returned with a stuffed toy, shaped like a black cat. “This was my favorite when I was young. It looked like my teacher, so whenever she was away I wasn’t alone.”

The ballerina found nothing strange about teachers that were cats, and she took the stuffed toy with a grateful nod, though she knew she couldn’t keep it. As she left, she was certain she would not see the golden haired girl on the moon for a very long time.

The toy would not let her return to her body, so the girl danced on, though she could feel the sun rising in her world. It was with a rush of relief that she saw stars blossom beneath the water, and she spun thankfully in that direction.

The goddess wasn’t alone. She held a dark haired girl tight in her arms, as though they would never let each other go. The ballerina remembered she was waiting for someone, and she slowed her steps. But the goddess knew she was there, and she beckoned her closer.

“This is my dear friend,” she said, by way of introduction, for in the Seas names mean nothing, and people are only what they mean to you. The ballerina nodded a hello, but the girl clung tight the goddess like a child. 

The ballerina felt as though she was intruding, and she turned to leave, only then remembering the cat. “This was a gift, but I can’t take it with me,” she said, offering the toy, and the goddess looked nostalgic as she took it from her.

“I didn’t know I’d be seeing you again,” she said gently, and the dark haired girl jerked, looking at it in shock. 

“You don’t mean--” 

The goddess blew stardust onto the toy and, incredibly, it began to move. The ballerina felt her eyes go wide. The toy was released and it hung in midair, and then began to drift away across the stars. The dark haired girl made a grab for it.

“You can’t!” she cried. 

The goddess bowed her head. “I’m sending it back to that day when all this began. If it weren’t for that little cat, none of us would here right now.” She spread her arms, and the stars behind her winked yellow, blue, and red. The ballerina realized she was in a crowd, for all the stars were souls. It was too much to take in at once.

The cat shrank to a pinprick, and then vanished. The goddess sighed. “I must repay you somehow,” she said, turning to the ballerina, “something you can take, this time, so don’t worry.”

She pressed a gloved hand to her heart, and when she withdrew it, a glow of light hovered in her palm. “A wish to restore a life that never existed,” she whispered, knowing it was true now that she’d seen the cat.

“I want to give this life to you. You can have your girls’ life back.”

The ballerina shook her head, not asking how she knew. “I am only a duck.”

The goddess watched her closely. “I have seen girls, and I have seen ducks, and I think you are something more.”

It was a revelation. The ballerina realized the goddess before her was, too, a girl and more, and the visitor with the black hair was a soldier and a wanderer and many things besides. The ballerina came from a simpler world, but she understood. “Thank you,” she said, taking the glow in her cupped hands.

The trip back across the Sea was short, and she was grateful as she eased back into her body.

The duck’s eyes opened. There was her pond, and the bridge, and the little house by the hill. She could feel a warm burn in her heart, and knew she could return to her girls’ form now as easily as she had once become the ballerina. But for now she would sleep. 

There would be time later, to walk on human legs and dance with girls with red eyes like roses and boys with white hair like feathers. There would be time for ink-stained hands to hold her human ones. Now that she knew about the Sea, she knew that they had all the time together in the world.

**Author's Note:**

> a love letter to some of my favorite magical girls. thank you for reading.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Podfic - The Seas Between Worlds](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11651238) by [bienenalster (pinkspider)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinkspider/pseuds/bienenalster)




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